Monday, May 13, 2013

Part 74 - The Sierra Passes

The storm wasn’t too bad last night, but it did put down a layer of snow at the
higher elevations. At dawn, after eating a quick snack, I continued my ascent
up the Kearsarge Pass Trail. After a few hours of hiking, I crossed back
over the summit and descend to the junction with the Pacific Crest Trail.

Back on
the trail, I began a fifteen-hundred-foot climb stretched out over three miles
to summit the second of the Sierra Passes – Glen Pass. The trail to the
pass was shrouded in a dozen shades of gray granite stone; much of it shattered
when the trail builders blasted the rock and then stacked the broken pieces to
form a staircase with irregular steps that are both too high and too far apart
to attempt anything resembling normal stair climbing.

From the
11,978-foot summit, it was easy to locate the prominent geographical features
in the basin below, which consisted of two large lakes; the maps identify as
Rae Lakes. I camped for the night at the edge of lower Rae Lake and the
next day summated Pinchot Pass named after Gifford Pinchot, the first chief of
the U.S. Forest Service.

The next
pass was Mather Pass, situated at 12, 096 feet, and for me, it was a brutal
climb. The switchbacks were steep and seemed to be never-ending.
The trail builders had their work cut out for them when they built this
section of the trail. As always, to make it to the top, I pushed myself
by counting units of eight steps, for I knew that if I was moving, I was making
progress.

And at
the beginning of each new switchback, I repeatedly told myself how much I loved
switchbacks, because that meant I was gaining in elevation, and at some point,
there would be no more switchbacks and I would have reached the summit.
Stupid as it may sound, this formula worked for me every time. With
today’s time on the trail, I met WeeBee, Siesta, Delaware Dave, Butters, B-Rad,
Skinny D, and Spoonman. I met them because they all passed me.

Just
before making the summit at Mather Pass, I paused to rest at one of the last
switchbacks. While sitting on a rock eating a snack, a southbound hiker
appeared on the trail above, and in a few strides he was standing beside me.
He stopped to rest and introduced himself as Bipolar. He was a
little younger than I am and said he was flip-flopping this section of the
trail, meaning he hitchhiked north to Mammoth Lakes and was now hiking south to
Independence, after which he would return to Mammoth Lakes and continue hiking
north.

Without
any probing from me concerning his life’s story, he volunteered that he worked
as a male nurse at a prison facility in Portage, Wisconsin, where he came in
contact with the notorious serial killer, Jeffery Dahmer. He said that
Dahmer had been convicted of murdering and dismembering seventeen victims in a
killing spree that spanned thirteen years from 1978 to1991, and because
Wisconsin had no death penalty, he was sentenced to fifteen consecutive life
sentences.

Bipolar said that Dahmer, in conversation, was a nice guy, but
he confided to Bipolar that he should never be set free, for he knew in his
heart, that he would revert back to his old ways. Bipolar concluded his
story by telling how Dahmer had been killed by fellow inmate, Christopher
Scaver, with several blows to the head using a free weight (bar to which
weighted discs are attached) as a weapon.

It was a
little bit more information than I needed, but the story, nevertheless, was
interesting. Bipolar left and I continued on to the summit where I found
B-Rad, Butters, Skinny D ,and Spoonman sprawled out on the ground resting from
their just-completed climb. I joined them for lunch and then pushed on
immediately afterwards. It was a downhill descent for several thousand
feet, and I wanted to take advantage of the daylight and make as much mileage
as possible.

If there
had been sufficient snow on the north side of Mather Pass, it would only have
taken a matter of a few minutes to glissade to the valley below, but there
wasn’t, so it took a half hour to follow the switchbacks to Palisade Lakes
nestled below the pinnacles of the fourteen-thousand-foot Palisade range.
Below the lakes the trail dropped a thousand feet over a rock cliff
called the Golden Staircase, a series of switchbacks that ended up paralleling
Palisade Creek at the bottom of the basin. The route turned up LeConte
Canyon and passed Helen Lake, named after one of John Muir’s daughters.
On the other side of Muir Pass was Wanda Lake, named after another of
Muir’s daughters.

Trying to
follow the trail around Helen Lake became a little iffy as the trail was
covered with water from the outflow of the lake, and there were still huge
snowbanks that had virtually obliterated the trail. When the trail
disappeared, I searched for cairns, piles of rocks left by other hikers to
indicate where the trail should be. Several times the trail totally
vanished in the water and I misjudged where it should reappear on the other
side; I was not lost, I just didn’t know where the official trail was located.
Through persistence, I was able to keep track of the trail as it wound
its way to the base of Muir Pass.

Down in King's Canyon, the landscape is dotted with small lakes.

Many of these lakes are planted with fish, making them favorite destinations for hikers coming into the Sierras.

Hiker Delaware Dave making a crossing between two lakes.

Yet another improvised bridge across a small stream. Anything to keep the shoes dry.

The farther down the canon I walk, the larger the rivers become.

This was a relatively easy stream crossing.

Female hikers Siesta and Weebee. In 2013, there were a large number of female hikers, and their number will continue to grow.

Yes, unless you don't mind getting your shoes wet, this is the only way across this stream.

The trail follows along the right side of the sparkling blue lake.

Water rushes everywhere.This water will eventually find its way to the cities and farms along coastal California.